The Naturals
by plutoplex
Summary: Occlumency and legilimency. Four wizards study the mind arts.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling, her publishers, and Warner Brothers own Harry Potter.

 **Part I: Curiosity: The desire to learn or know about anything**

 _If legilimency is the open door, occlumency is the closed one. Like a door, the mind can be opened or closed at any time, but never both at once. The foolish wizard will choose always the open door, and thereby risks the exposure of his own secrets. The wise wizard chooses sometimes one, sometimes the other, as his need dictates._ – Gellert Grindelwald to Albus Dumbledore, Godric's Hollow, 1903

 _Albus, now, he's always his most dangerous when he ain't in your head. He takes a gander in there only if he wants to help – might not be the sort of help you're after, but that were my blasted brother all over, so sure he knows best – or if he were just curious. If he don't trust you, if you're a stranger, he don't look. Not anymore. It's rude, he says. Manners. That's the one good thing he learned from that bastard, if you ask me. Don't counter the whole world of bad, though, did it? And no, I ain't going into more detail, no matter how much you ply me with me own firewhiskey._ – Aberforth Dumbledore to Alastor Moody, Hog's Heads Inn, 1956

Albus Dumbledore was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors were lions. Lions were just oversized cats in the end, and everyone knew about cats and their curiosity. Albus wanted to know things. He collected knowledge like a Ravenclaw – and the Sorting Hat had offered that House to him, but he had wanted to redeem his family name after his father's conviction, and for that he needed Gryffindor – and a chance find in the school library proved extraordinarily helpful. With legilimency, he could learn not only from books and from lectures, but from minds themselves.

Of course, Albus did not only want to know, he wanted to be known to know. Naturally, he would not use his newfound knowledge for anything nefarious. No, to redeem his family name, Albus knew he needed to be not only _great_ but also _good_.

But a reputation for omniscience, for knowing others' problems even before they themselves did – and then having the solution ready at hand – that could only help. He would help others with their troubles, and that in turn would help solidify his reputation as both a prodigy and an altruist. And it worked. Everyone benefitted. By graduation, Albus Dumbledore was esteemed by professors and fellow students alike.

And then his mother died, and he found himself trapped in Godric's Hollow, taking care of his sister.

At the time, he thought that Gellert had saved him. Another mind, just as brilliant as his own, to stave off the tedium and drudgery and utter _waste_ of his talents. Of course, their first meeting had not been so smooth.

"That is quite rude, you know," said Bathilda Bagshot's handsome blond great-nephew, his German accent thick and tantalizingly exotic.

Albus blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"As you should," the nephew responded crisply.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're referring to," Albus said. And he didn't. The other man was a mystery. His mind was blank, silent, yielding none its secrets. Albus wondered if he were even real, or if were instead some magical simulacrum.

"You were trying to force your way into my skull. Pounding on the doors to my mind." He hit his hands together in a loud clap, then repeated the action twice more. "Like so. It is most impolite. Worse, it is giving me quite the headache."

Albus realized that he had gradually – and unconsciously – increased the force of his probes, hoping to solve the mystery of the other man's mental silence. He flushed. "I apologize," he said, immediately cancelling his legilimency. "I hadn't realized."

And to his surprise, the other man laughed. "No one else has caught you, then? You must be quite good. Though I am better, ja? You could not get it."

"No, I couldn't," Albus admitted. "How ever did you manage that?"

"Occlumency." Albus frowned, not recognizing the word. It had not appeared in the book he had found on legilimency. "A trade? I will teach you, you will teach me. Meine Mutter – ah, my mother, that is – she taught only occlumency. Did not wish me to learn her secrets, perhaps."

Albus was intrigued, but did not wish to appear too eager, so he said, "It seems you have more to gain from this than I."

"You owe me for your rudeness, yes? But perhaps I have no desire to learn from such a fool. For each thing, there is a counter, just as strong. You think because you poke and pry into the heads of others, that I merely hide from you. But occlumency is good for more than just hiding," the blond added, wagging a finger in a teasing way that made Albus flush in something more than simple embarrassment. "It makes the mind safe, ja, not just from wizards but also creatures – boggarts and dementors and the like. But that does not make it equal to legilimency, you are thinking."

"It appears you already know my thoughts," Albus accused.

The other man grinned merrily. "I said that I am no legilimens, did I not? No, I can sree it on your face. You English, you are too easy to read. But that is the value of occlumency, to learn to master the self. Not just the face, no, but die Geist. It is not only a counter to your little trick, it is a full equal. Or why else would I learn? To keep my secrets from my mother? Nein, nein, why then would she teach me? It is useful on its own, even if there are no rude Englishmen there to pry. Master the self, master all."

"Well, I can hardly turn that down, can I? You have a deal, Mister –"

"Grindelwald. Gellert Grindelwald."

* * *

 **Part II: Sociopathy: The inability to feel remorse or empathy**

 _Among its other effects, occlumency closes the mind from external intrusion. A natural occlumens is a man isolated from the cares of others since birth. He is a wizard who has never felt the truth of others' thoughts. It is not a talent, but a curse._ – Gellert Grindelwald to Albus Dumbledore, Godric's Hollow, 1903

 _Tom Riddle was a natural occlumens, with all the problems that this entailed. His inability to recognize the reality of others' emotions – what Albus Dumbledore would one day call his inability to love – eventually led to his downfall. And yet, despite this, he was not a perfect occlumens. If he were, Harry Potter would never have been able to see into his mind. It is my theory that Riddle kept his legilimency active at all times, constantly seeking signs of threats or treachery, and through that crack in his defenses allowed Potter in. Once he realized the vulnerabilities of their connection, Riddle reduced his legilimency use, allowing his natural occlumency to provide protection. This may also explain why he seemed even more callous towards his followers in the final years of the war._ – Hermione Granger, from her book _The Riddle Wars_ , published 2007

It was crying again. Tom wondered why it bothered. Tears could not change anything, so they were a waste.

"Be silent," Tom told it, but that just made it cry even louder. "Be _silent_ , I said." This time, it fell silent, even though tears continued to fall down its cheeks. Its eyes grew wider, and its skin changed colors, looking paler. Tom wondered why it becoming silent would make it pale, since it clearly wasn't holding its breath. It stood up from where it had been bawling on the floor and tried to scamper away, falling against the doorframe in its haste but making no noise.

That was the first time Tom realized the power of his commands.

He experimented after that. Some commands worked better than others, but they almost always worked in the end. That proved what he already knew, that he was better than the things around him. They were like toys, giant dolls that he could move around, just like stupid little Suzie played with her stupid little ragdoll.

He was surprised the first time he saw into one of their minds. He learned later that it was his accidental magic, that first bit of legilimency. He had demanded that Robert show him what happened, and he _saw_ it, saw it clearly as if _he_ had been there. He could taste Robert's terror, almost as if Robert had real thoughts, as if he were an _equal_ to himself. Which was obviously impossible, since none of the useless, stupid things in the orphanage had his power. They were just tools, things he could move and play with as he saw fit.

When the schoolteacher came and told him his destiny, Tom first saw just another _thing_. But then the schoolteacher remained silent after Tom ordered him to tell the truth. The schoolteacher _resisted_ him.

"Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school for magic."

"Is it magic, then, what I can do?" Tom asked eagerly.

"What is it you can do?" the schoolteacher asked, and Tom felt the need to answer, and answer fully and truthfully, as if he were one of the things in the orphanage. And Tom feared the schoolteacher for his power. _He_ would be greater, no matter what was required.

Tom spent the rest of the summer practicing. He saw the fear of the others in the orphanage, and smiled. _Someday, Albus Dumbledore, that fear will be yours._ He would practice, and study, and push until all minds bent under his indomitable will.

* * *

 **Part III: Empathy: The ability to understand and share the emotions of another**

 _Legilimency gives you insight into others, to experience what they experience, to feel what they feel. An old friend taught it to me. It came easily, though I was no natural. A natural legilimens is a natural sensitive. He is a wizard who hears the truth behind every lie, and the harsh reality behind every truth. It is both gift and burden, to see yourself through others' eyes. If he is lucky, if the people around him are kind, he may grow up well-adjusted. If not, madness and misanthropy are his sole birthright._ – Gellert Grindelwald, undated writings

 _In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. But the land is filled with basilisks, and to see is only to be a king of fools. I am adrift amidst a sea of thoughts, fighting not to drown. Blindness may be my sole recourse._ – Severus Snape, margin notes in his second-year Charms textbook, undated

"Why can't you play outside like a normal boy?" Father said aloud. In his mind, Severus heard _What'd I do to deserve a useless little nancy boy like you?_

"Yes, sir," he said softly.

He walked away from the other homes of Spinner's End, away from the foul, dirty river, to the nicer part of town. If he was lucky, Lily might be at the park waiting for him. He could hear the unspoken _freak, disgrace, vagrant_ as he passed the disapproving faces of the busybody housewives. He reached the park, and the only sound in his mind was his own, so Lily wasn't there yet. Probably wouldn't be there for hours, he had left so early. That was all right, though. He liked the silence of his own thoughts. It was strange, but nice. Peaceful. Severus dreamt, sometimes, about going somewhere away from everyone, somewhere quiet, like the empty park. He sat on the swing and waited.

He felt _happiness_ and turned to see her.

"Sev!" she called. "I was hoping you'd be here!" Her mental voice echoed _I was hoping you'd be here!_ "How come I never manage to sneak up on you?" she asked, and he felt _intrigued_.

Lily was perfect. Her outside and inside voices always matched. He knew that he was _worthless, ugly, weak_ , but Lily didn't care. She _liked, admired, respected_ him. She looked at his ragged, mismatched clothes, and her voice didn't say _urchin_ , or _that poor boy_ , or _stay away_. Her voice said _friend_.

Severus could never, ever run away, not without Lily. And she wouldn't (he'd asked her), because she said she couldn't leave her family.

"I could hear you," he said. He wanted to say "magic," but Mother had said he was imagining things. No one could hear thoughts. _I don't have time for the boy's nonsense_ , her inner voice had said. He had repeated this back to her, and she'd yelled at him for ( _brat just made a lucky guess_ ) lying.

"But I was quiet and everything!"

"No one's really quiet," he said. "They just think they are."

"Wow." _Impressed_.

He was so certain that Hogwarts was going to be better, that the other students would be like Lily, that he almost managed to ignore the stab of pain from Mother's departing words at the station. "Be good at school, Severus. I love you." _Glad you'll be gone. Maybe now things'll go back to how they were._

But Hogwarts wasn't any better. There were so many people, and they were all so loud. There were dozens in his classes, hundreds in the Great Hall at meals, and he could scarcely make out the individuals in the constant press of their thoughts. It was worse, so much worse, than Spinner's End, where he seldom had to deal with more than one or two people at a time.

He could feel the _derision_ from the other students as they looked at his secondhand robes, his greasy hair, his oversized nose. He could feel the _contempt_ from those Gryffindor bullies as they jeered at him, the _disgust_ as they called him that cruel nickname, the _hate_ as they hexed him for no real reason. But there was also the _boredom_ in lessons, the _lust_ for classmates, the _hunger_ before meals, and more and more and more, from so many sources, until he could barely think himself, until he was so stressed and confused and exhausted that he stepped right into their trap and retaliated.

And then he was in the headmaster's office, and he could feel _nervousness_ from the Gryffindors and _bemusement_ from the headmaster. But then the old man looked at him, and all he could hear was the continued _anxiety, bravado, tension_ from the Gryffindors.

"He started it!" lied Pettigrew. _Better him than me._ "He hexed James first!"

"That's right," Black agreed. _Serves the greasy git right._

"Is that true, Mister Snape?" Headmaster Dumbledore asked. Silence.

Severus stared at him, too confused to respond. He looked at Pettigrew ( _nervous satisfaction_ ), at Black ( _glee_ ), at Potter ( _smug_ ), at Dumbledore (nothing . . . like he wasn't there).

"Mister Snape?" the headmaster repeated. His lips turned down, but Severus wasn't sure what that meant, if it meant anything at all.

"No, sir," he said slowly, feeling dazed, still staring at the man. "They attacked me first."

"That is quite rude, you know," Dumbledore said. The Gryffindor thugs snickered. The headmaster turned to look at them, and they stopped. But Severus could still hear _Now he's in for it!_

"Sir?" Severus asked.

"Legilimency is a rare skill, Mister Snape, and one not taught at Hogwarts. It can be considered an attack on the privacy of others."

"Is it legilimency, then, what I can do?" he asked. Mother had said it wasn't real, but if it was rare, perhaps she simply never learned of it.

Dumbledore's face turned pale, and his lips turned down even more. His blue eyes widened, and Severus suddenly felt _horror_ and _suspicion_ mixed in with his own relief that he could again sense him. _I won't let another Tom come through Hogwarts!_

Severus wondered who Tom was, and why he could now hear the headmaster.

 _Close the door. Occlude._

Severus felt a push in his mind, and he staggered back, and then there was silence again. He left the office with detention, and twenty points lost, and a reputation for knowing more dark arts than the seventh years, and a realization. People could be silent. If he could only learn how, he could have silence and Lily. He could have both, would not have to choose.

He had a goal, an ambition worthy of his House. He would find out what _occlude_ meant. He would study, and practice, and earn the power of that silence.

* * *

 **Part IV: Soliloquy: The act of speaking one's thoughts aloud, either while alone or before others**

 _The calm wizard stands on one side of the door, whispering, and though that door is open, the legilimens must actively strain to hear. The emotive wizard stands before that same open door, shouting so loudly that the legilimens cannot help but hear. With the occluded mind, it is a struggle – is the legilimens so strong that he can break down the door? Or are his senses so sharp that he can hear regardless, even with the closed door to muffle the sound?_ – Gellert Grindelwald to Albus Dumbledore, Godric's Hollow, 1903

 _I should have practiced occlumency. I knew that even at the time, but it was Sirius's death that really drove it home. It was my fault. I knew that even back then, I think. Looking back, though, I do think they went about it the wrong way – Dumbledore and Snape, I mean. I'm not saying the blame is theirs, because it's not. But I never really understood why I needed to learn it until it was too late. I was too curious for my own good – that's why I looked into Snape's pensieve, which was another stupid mistake – too interested in finally knowing what was going on to realize that I was vulnerable. I was too much a Gryffindor, I guess. It was like Snape was trying to teach me protego, but all I wanted to learn was stupefy._ – Harry Potter to Albus Severus Potter, Godric's Hollow, 2022

"Auror Potter, Minister Shacklebolt tells me you studied occlumency back at Hogwarts?" the head auror asked.

"Sort of," Harry admitted, shrugging. "I was pants at it, though. Never actually managed it."

"Hmmm. I see. Pity, that. You see, we're looking to get a few aurors trained in legilimency. Better for interrogating suspects, you understand? Was hoping your familiarity with the occlumency end of things would help – it's damn hard to train up a halfway decent legilimens. Or so the Unspeakables tell me. Never learned it myself, but I'm willing to give it a shot. Should keep our veritaserum budget under control, assuming I can get some volunteers trained up. Don't suppose you'd be interested?"

Harry paused for a moment, thinking. Then he shook his head. "Sorry, sir, I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you. I've had enough of other wizards in my head to last a lifetime."

* * *

A/N: Dialog in Part II is quoted from _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_.

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